As the first light of dawn crept over Mkocheni Village in Taita Taveta County, thin columns of smoke curled above the rubble that was once home to hundreds of families. Children sat quietly beside broken furniture and torn schoolbooks, their parents staring blankly at the remains of a life built over decades.
The overnight eviction left more than 300 people homeless. Villagers say the demolition began around 2 a.m., led by security officers who accompanied a private investor and a team of bulldozer operators. Within hours, the village near Lake Jipe was flattened.
For many, the shock is still sinking in.
“They came when everyone was asleep. We were not even given time to dress properly or carry our belongings,” said Hamida Daudi, a mother of five whose family has lived in Mkocheni for generations. “We have court orders, but no one respected them.”
A Court Order in Shambles
The families had secured an injunction from the Environment and Land Court in Voi, stopping any eviction until a dispute over the 1,000-acre parcel was heard. The land, historically linked to former Taveta MP Basil Criticos and Mama Ngina Kenyatta, is now claimed by a new investor whose identity remains unclear.
Taita Taveta Governor Andrew Mwadime condemned the eviction, calling it “a calculated attempt to push poor residents off their land in the name of development.” He said his administration would investigate how an eviction could take place despite an active court order.
But for the villagers, the promise of investigations offers little comfort.
They have lost not just their homes but also their farms, animals, and schools.
“We were born here. Our parents and grandparents were buried here,” said Ms. Daudi. “We only want justice and a place to live.”
Echoes from the Coast: Wasini’s Long Shadow
In Kwale County, residents of Wasini Island are facing a similar nightmare. More than 600 acres of the island — a lifeline for hundreds of fishermen and tour guides — have been awarded to the Saggaf family, long regarded by locals as trustees, not owners.
The community now fears being forced off land they have called home for more than five centuries.
“We never surrendered our land to anyone,” said Fadhili Abdalla, an 86-year-old elder. “We only allowed the Saggaf family to manage it. Now, they say they own everything.”
Kwale Senator Raphael Chimera has pledged to help residents challenge the ruling, calling it “a painful reminder of Kenya’s unresolved land injustices.”
The Saggaf family, however, maintains that they intend to regularize ownership through purchase agreements, not evictions. Family spokesperson Muhammad Maula Saggaf said, “We are not chasing anyone away. But those who have developed the land should acquire it formally, or the government can buy and redistribute it.”
A Country Haunted by Its Past
The stories of Mkocheni and Wasini are pieces of a much larger puzzle — one that has defined Kenya’s post-independence history. Decades after promises to address land inequality, thousands still live under the shadow of eviction, often victims of political connections and opaque land transfers.
Land, for most of these communities, is not just property. It is memory, belonging, and the only inheritance they have ever known.
As the sun sets over the hills of Taveta and the blue waters of Wasini, families displaced by powerful interests are left asking the same question:
If the law cannot protect us, who will?
